Baby Number Six
by CountryGrl
Summary: The Wilkersons have to come to terms with having a new baby in their midst...again. And that's only the beginning. Please R&R! Currently on hiatus while I edit it. I'll either be continuing, or coming back with a sequel.
1. Chapter 1: Baby

**Author's Note  
****Hello, new readers, or old readers I've sent back to the beginning!**

**I'm writing this almost three years after I started this story, and over two since I last updated. I'd basically abandoned it, but since I just started watching the show again, and remembering why I fell in love with it in the first place, I thought I'd give this fic another look. **

**Even if I don't end up adding more to it, I will be editing it and making it a slightly better quality than what fourteen-year-old me came up with. If I don't add more chapters to this one, there _will _be a sequel set when this baby grows up, coming soon. **

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**CHAPTER ONE: BABY**

The baby's coming. Two weeks early, because that's just her luck, isn't it? Hal's at work. Dewey and Jamie at school. Malcolm's at college, and Reese is at Craig's. God knows where Francis is. She's all alone, there's no-one, and driving to the hospital stopped being an option about ten minutes ago.

The phone's in the next room. If she can just get to it, maybe it'll be okay.

She's too old for this. She was too old for Jamie, for Pete's sake, but at least she hadn't been alone then. Just get to the next room, she thinks, but her head's spinning, and sits down on the couch. Breathes deeply. She_ can_ do this.

She staggers across the room, leaning on every surface until she reaches the phone. She should call the hospital first, but instead she goes straight for speed dial, number 1, Hal's cell phone. He answers on the second ring, and doesn't need to be told twice.

* * *

Dewey picks Jamie up from Kindergarten every day now. Not that he minds. If he's going to be a good brother to Jamie, he has to spend time with him.

Jamie doesn't talk much, but Dewey's grown to like the silent audience to whatever he wants to say. It's nice to have someone in the family who doesn't tell him where to put his clarinet.

Dewey knows his parents didn't come to his concert but he appreciates that they lied to make him feel better. It's compensation at least. And if they had come, they'd've probably just embarrassed him anyway. So maybe it was just as well.

He lets them both in, slightly confused about why the door's locked, because with the due date so near, his Mom's not at work. He looks at his watch - dead on a quarter past three, the normal time he arrives home. And as if on cue, the phone rings.

"Dewey!" his father exclaims when he picks up. His voice sounds strange, heady and almost gleeful. "I thought you'd be home. We're at the hospital."

Dewey immediately crushes the panic that begins to rise, because his Dad wouldn't be sounding so happy if something was wrong. "The baby?"

"The baby!" His father echoes, as if he can't quite believe it. "The baby, it's here! A bit early, but she's doing fine. So is your Mom."

"Good." A second too late, Dewey realises what that means. "She?"

"She."

"She?"

"You have a little sister, Dewey."

Dewey lets a few seconds pass in silence. Then, "Wow." It's stupid, really, because there was always a fifty-fifty chance that he would have a sister, but when you're already one of five brothers, the possibility seems much slimmer. So slim that he hadn't really given it a thought.

"Definitely wow," his father adds. "You'll be all right for a bit, won't you? I'll come home later on, but my two girls," he pauses for a moment, as if wondering at being able to say that, "will be in here at least until tomorrow."

"Sure." Dewey grins. Home alone with Jamie. He could definitely manage that.

"I'll see you soon, then. Oh, and Dewey - you could let your brothers know, if you can find numbers for them that are even slightly up-to-date."

"Okay. Bye, Dad."

His father says goodbye, and Dewey hangs up the phone. _Well. This is an interesting development._


	2. Chapter 2: Breaking the News

**Author's Note  
****While not much of the plot is going to change, the settings have been almost completely swapped for the early chapters. Also, this chapter switches everything to the past tense, because I reached the end of my patience with the present-tense narrative. **

**I'll also say here that it's really thanks to all the people who reviewed this story the first time round, that this rewrite is even happening. So thank you, all! **

**The original AN for this chapter thanked Ginnyandhermionerock, LTJM and Shannon 012495 for reviewing, so a special shout out to you guys who were here way back at the beginning.**

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**CHAPTER TWO: BREAKING THE NEWS**

Dewey stood staring at the phone for a minute or so once his dad had gone. He had a sister. A _sister_. It shouldn't feel this different, but felt as if the whole family had been changed dramatically by her arrival, and he hadn't even seen her yet. Well, it looked like he was going to be acting as family messenger, so he'd better start making calls. The last number for Francis, on a piece of paper stuck to the fridge, was dated two months ago, so he hoped it was still in use.

His oldest brother answered on the third ring. ''Hello?''

''Hi, Francis.''

''Dewey? What's up?''

''The baby was born.''

''What? No! Really? When?''

''Today. While I was at school.''

''Whoa! Is he okay?''

''Who?''

''The baby, doofus.''

''She's fine.''

''She?''

"Yep."

"...Wow."

Grinning, Dewey hung up the phone, leaving Francis to process that information.

Next he dialled the number for Craig Feldspar. Reese had been lodging at Craig's for the last few months, since he became the janitor of North High.

''Hello?''

Craig answered almost before the first ring. Understandable, really, he probably didn't get a lot of phone calls. ''Hi Craig. It's Dewey. Is Reese there?''

''Oh.'' Craig sounded disappointed. ''Reese... Phone for you. He's baking cookies,'' Craig informed Dewey.

''Craig, I'm at a crucial stage with these cookies, this had better be good,'' Dewey heard Reese say, before grabbing the phone. ''Who is it?''

''It's Dewey.''

''Well, what do you want, brat?''

''Mom had the baby.''

There was silence for a second. ''Oh.''

''It's a girl.''

"Ha. Ha.''

''I'm not kidding, it actually is a girl."

"Okay, Dewey, whatever you say. I'm going back to my cookies. I'll come over later."

Dewey sighed. Typical Reese. Now for Malcolm.

He dials the number scrawled underneath ''Harvard Janitor's Office''. A voice he doesn't recognise answers.

''Hello?''

''Hi, um, is Malcolm there?''

''Who?''

''Malcolm Wilkerson? He's an assistant janitor?''

''He's on duty at the moment, can I take a message?''

''Just tell him Dewey called, and that he now has a sister.''

''I'll tell him, and he can call you back when he gets off shift.''

''Thanks.''

Dewey hung up the phone, task complete. He wondered briefly what would change with a girl in the house. Well, his mom was a girl, technically, but she didn't count, because... Well, she didn't count. The only other girl in the family was Piama, she and Francis weren't around very much. The new baby - when their parents finally decided on a name - would be there all the time, and that's going to be very different.

The phone began to ring again, and he picked up, wondering if life on a switchboard or in a call centre would suit him, because it was becoming a full-time occupation. "Hello?"

''Dewey?" It was Francis. "We're on our way over. Can I talk to Mom?''

''Nope. She's at the hospital, dumbass, she just had a baby.''

''Okay, and Dad?''

''He's with her.''

''He's at the hospital? He hates the hospital.''

''I know, but that's where he is."

''All right. Well, we'll be there in a couple of hours. See you.''

Dewey put the phone down, and was about to turn the TV on when the doorbell rung. Apparently there was no end to this.

He opened the door to find Craig standing there, with Reese close behind. Reese was carrying a huge tray of cookies.

''So, where's the baby?'' asked Craig as he stepped inside.

''They're at the hospital." Dewey replied. His mother had had most of her children at home, so it looked like that would be a statement he would be making many times over today.

Reese carefully laid the tray of cookies on the kitchen table. ''You _were _kidding about it being a girl, right?''

''Nope.''

Reese still looked suspicious. "Really?''

''Really."

''Oh, nooo,'' Reese wailed, ''you know how awful I am at talking to girls!''

''Reese, she's about six hours old. I don't think it'll make that much difference _what _you say to her.''

''Have they thought of a name yet?'' Craig asked through a mouthful of cookie.

''Hey, quit eating those!'' Reese snapped. ''I didn't make them just so they could be eaten!''

''Then why _did _you make them?'' Dewey inquired, innocently. Then, to Craig, ''No. They haven't thought of a name. They didn't even have a name ready for a boy. Talk about being prepared.''

''I made them so...so...well, I didn't make them just so Craig could stuff his face!'' Reese spluttered.

''I like Helga,'' said Craig. ''Or... Or Wonderwoman.''

Dewey gave Craig a strange look, and was about to say something, but was interrupted by the phone ringing yet again.

''Hello?''

''HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?''

''Malcolm?''

''How could you have A GIRL? In what way do you think that is remotely...hang on, Dewey?''

''That's my name."

"Where's Dad?"

''At the hospital, with Mom and...'' Dewey looked at Craig, and grinned, ''Wonderwoman.''

''...Wonderwoman.''

''Yup. That's what they decided to call her.''

''Okay, that isn't funny...but you know what, with this family I wouldn't even be surprised. I'm coming home.''

Dewey frowned. ''Are you allowed?''

''Yes. I would be coming home tomorrow anyway for spring break, and they said it was fine."

"Okay, well. When will you be here?"

"Three, four hours?"

"All right."

Dewey hung up the phone, then looked at Craig and Reese. ''Malcolm's on his way. Francis and Piama, as well."

Reese was already examining the kitchen cupboards, "Then I'd better get started on snacks."

Dewey rolled his eyes. Reese's 'snacks' were famous for their overcompensation and ridiculously long preparation time. Still, at least the family would all be together.

Even as he thought that, he grinned to himself. Yes, the family being together wasn't always the best arrangement when it came to sanity or safety or...any of those things. But at least their new sister would always know where she stood with them.


	3. Chapter 3: Almost Reunion

**Author's Note**

**Original AN thanked LTJM, saraxrawrr, SIZ and Sydney Mechelle for their reviews. But thanks to everyone who's left a review since this story first appeared, and indeed everyone who's so much as given it a few minutes of their attention. You're all great!**

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**CHAPTER THREE: ALMOST REUNION**

The plan had been for Lois to stay in hospital at least until the next day, but she'd laid there in the ward only so long as her nerves could stand the screams of babies which were not her own. She was also feeling overwhelmingly maternal, and not just for her newborn daughter - it was one of those rare occasions where she longed to see her sons, too.

And so, once the doctor had given her the all clear, and made her promise to get rest at home (that was clearly not going to happen but it was hardly the first time), they had fled the hospital. Now, in the car, the baby was sound asleep in her newly-bought carrycot, and Lois found herself repeatedly turning to look at her. She had a _daughter_.

When Hal tried to do it, though, she snapped out of her reverie. "Hal," she said, tiredly but firmly, "I think you'd better watch the road instead."

He grins, and turns his attention back to the job at hand. "Sorry. I still can't quite believe we've got her."

"Me neither. And the money's going to be tight, Hal, but... I think we can do it. Don't you?"

He nods, "We're in a much better position now than we were when Jamie was born and we survived that. We should probably talk about names, though."

"Names?"

"For the baby. I mean, she's the only girl we've got, so we're not going to get her confused with the others, but she does need a name."

''Oh my God,'' says Lois, ''I hadn't even thought about that."

"Neither had I, 'til now. Surely you've got some ideas, though."

''Oh, please,'' she replied, ''I spent my entire childhood thinking of names for my first daughter. But I don't like any of them now. Arabella...Portia...Christabel...the list goes on.''

''I see what you mean," he agreed.

''I don't know,'' Lois sighed, shaking her head, ''I guess I was so sure we'd have another boy...after all this time...''

They were now pulling onto the driveway. ''Well, get your thinking cap on,'' Hal told her, "Else I'll name her after your mother."

She rolled her eyes. "Please, no."

He grinned, and sprinted around the car to open her door, before going to get the baby. "Who's a pretty little girl then? You are!'' he gushed.

Lois smiled to herself. Hal would deny it, but she'd always remember that their daughter had had him wrapped around her little finger from the first day she was born.

She made her way to the front door, but Reese flung it open before she could knock. He was wearing an apron, and the smell of something cooking drifted out towards her.

"Welcome home," he said.

"Thank you, though I only left this morning, it's you who doesn't live here any more."

He considered this. "Fair point." He paused, looking uncomfortable. ''Where's the...you know?''

''It's called a baby, Reese,'' she replied, somewhat wearily. "Your father's just fetching her from the car."

He stepped aside to let her enter, but then the sound of another car on the driveway could be heard. "Francis and Piama," he said by way of explanation, when turned to try and see who it was.

Moments later, her oldest son and his wife were through the door, accompanied by Hal and the baby. She sank down onto the couch, still exhausted, while everyone crowded round the cot. Dewey and Jamie had materialised, probably from their bedroom, and were greeting Francis as well as cooing over their new sister. Lois smiled. Eventually things would go back to their normal, hectic and stressful selves, but for now, it was nice to have everyone happy, and excited over the new arrival.

Dewey was the only person not completely content. It had been five hours since Malcolm had called, and there was no sign of him. Still too early to be properly worried, but he couldn't help wondering where Malcolm was.

* * *

Actually, that was a question Malcolm himself wouldn't mind knowing the answer to at the moment.

He was on a bus, wedged between two rather overweight women, and was beginning to think he might have missed the driver call out his stop, due to the fact that his ears are completely covered by his travelling companions. Suddenly the two women got up together, one of them saying, ''Milward, dear, that's our stop.''

Malcolm groaned. Milward was two towns over and there was no way he can get the driver to turn round, he was grumpy enough as it was. He stood up. He could walk it in an hour. Or maybe two. Still, he could walk it.

He got off the bus, shivering and cursing himself that he didn't even put on his work jacket before he came out.

And to his annoyance, but not really to his surprise, it was pouring with rain.

Great.


	4. Chapter 4: Sleepless Night

**A/N I'm updating again now because soon I'm gonna be busy with coursework and rehearsals for Midsummer Night's Dream at school so I won't have as much time for writing...lol. But I just wrote this in one go, really quickly, so...I hope you like it. Thank you to my reviewers, you are all stars :)**

.

.

.

Three hours later, Ida's left - Lois practically threw her out with her bare hands. She doesn't even feel guilty. Her mother had no right to just turn up unannounced.

Craig's left too, so it's just the family: Hal, Lois, Francis, Piama, Reese, Dewey and the baby. Sitting on the couch (or around it anyway). Together.

There's something missing, but Lois can't quite put a finger on it....

.

.

.

Malcolm puts a shaking finger on the ''cancel'' button in the payphone. He's freezing cold, wet, and lost. And he's just used his last 20 cents on calling his house, which he remembers two seconds later has had no phone connection for a week.

Being a genius, his fine-tuned sense of direction should have led him directly back home, but maybe it's something to do with how cold and wet he is, he doesn't know, all he knows is that he's lost and has no money.

And, yes, he's scared. He doesn't mind admitting it now.

.

.

.

It's nearing nine o'clock. Dewey's staring out of the window having just put Jamie to bed. Worrying. He knows it's stupid but he can't help it. It's not like Malcolm to say he's coming and then not show up.

''What's wrong, Dewey?''

It's Francis, standing in the doorway.

Dewey shakes his head. ''Nothing. Only, Malcolm said he was coming home. He said he would be here at six. But he never came.''

Francis enters the room and goes to stand next to his younger brother. ''You worried about him?''

''No.''

There's a pause.

''Yeah.''

Francis tries hard not to smile. ''Don't worry, Malcolm can look after himself. He's a genius.''

''That's what worries me,'' says Dewey, then turns away, goes to sit on the bed.

Francis decides not to ask what he means by this. Instead, he says, ''Who knows, maybe he decided not to come back after all. He might still be at Harvard.''

Dewey nods. ''Yeah, maybe.''

But he's not even slightly convinced.

.

.

.

That night Lois has to get up eleven times to stop the baby crying. The first time she feeds her, the next she changes her, then sings to her, then feeds her again...

She'd forgotten how tiring this is. And she'd only had Jamie two years ago. When he was born she'd said, never again. Come to think of it, she'd said that when Dewey was born, too. Heck, she'd said it when _Francis _was born! But here she was, 5 kids and 8,000 diaper changes later, another baby, this the first of many sleepless nights.

It was funny, she'd spent so much time dreaming about having a daughter...the things they would do together...make-overs, gossip sessions, shop-til-you-drop days, cookie-baking, ice-skating, paper doll making...the list went on. But she wouldn't have swapped her boys for any of that.

Still, now she didn't have to. She had a daughter!

She remembered something Hal had said to her once - ''Honey, we outnumber you five to one and we're still losing.''

Well, now the score was 6-2. And yes, she was still winning.

She had a daughter!

.

.

.

Malcolm wakes up.

Hang on, was he asleep?

Apparently so.

He's disorientated. Where is he, anyway? He looks around. It looks like...okay, so he's in a payphone booth.

He's also shivering uncontrollably. He can't remember ever having been so cold, it feels like the rainwater has gone straight through his skin and into his bones. His hands are numb, his breathing shallow.

Probably that should worry him. The word ''hypothermia'' springs to mind for some reason, but he can't quite remember what it means.....

Something to do with....no, it's slipped away.

Oh well. Can't have been important.

He's so tired...maybe he should just......sleep.......

.

.

.

Emily Fletcher is driving to work in the early hours of the morning. Why that is, she doesn't know. Well, apart from the fact that she was stupid enough to take the darn job. She doesn't enjoy adding up columns of numbers - who would? - and she certainly doesn't enjoy getting up at three o' clock every morning.

Suddenly her car's engine gives a lurch and then there's a gurgling sound, which is somewhat disconcerting.

She revs up again, willing the car to move, pleeeease, but it remains stubbornly where it is.

She's broken down. Yay!

Thankfully there's a payphone on the side of the road, not far from where she is. She can call her boss (''Sorry, Mr Leyland, I've broken down, so I'm going to be late. If you don't like it, screw you!'') and then the roadside repair men.

She gets out of her car and walks towards the payphone booth.

To her horror, there's a young man laying curled up on the floor inside, unconscious, his face a ghostly white and his lips pale blue.

Change of plan. The first call's going to be for an ambulance.


	5. Chapter 5: Hospital

**So..they scrapped Midsummer Night's Dream and auditions for Oliver! are next week. So I had some spare time! Yay!  
****I'm not really that thrilled with this chapter and I'm going completely off-subject from the baby...but...y'know. I uploaded it anyway.  
****Thanks to LTJM, Chin00k and Sydney Mechelle for reviewing my last two chapters... you are all great :) Hope you enjoy this chapter :S**

''Doctor Kelvitch, we're going to need you in A & E...''

''What is it, Nurse?''

''We've got a kid in here with late stage 2 hypothermia, brought in by paramedics...he was found by the roadside unconscious, Doctor Reymon says if we don't get his BT up to 36 degrees in the next five minutes his chances are slim.''

''I'm on it. Get me two heated blankets and have someone prep some warming fluid, and quickly, if he goes into stage 3 clinical death is only an hour away. Move!''

Nurse Tyler moved, and fast. Treated quickly, hypothermia wasn't a serious condition, but she knew for a fact that if they didn't get the patient heated right away, he'd die, no doubt about it. The extreme cold would make his muscles, and then his organs shut down - but they had a chance of saving him and she knew they'd try their hardest.

She was nineteen, she'd only just finished her training course. She knew a lot of the hospital staff said she was too inexperienced to be on the ward, but right now someone's life was in her hands.

She'd show them.

.

.

.

An hour later, Nurse Tyler is sitting by the boy's bed, watching him sleep. He's not out of danger yet but they've managed to raise his body temperature from 33 to 36 degrees, so things are looking up. Still, she daren't be too hopeful, she'd learnt in her first week of medical training that you can never be certain... She'd seen people with 2% chance of survival hopping out of bed and skipping all the way home, and she'd seen people with 98% mourned by their families. There is no general rule, there is no way of knowing.

It's a waiting game now. Doctor Kelvitch said if the boy regained consciousness within the hour, he was almost sure to make it.

It's already been 45 minutes.

.

.

.

At seven am, Hal's cell phone rings. Sleepily he reaches for it, presses all the buttons at once and hopes one of them is ''Reject call'. Lois has been up half the night and he's woken up each time she gets out of bed to care for the baby. It's probably his boss, telling him they've decided to cut off his pay right away instead of after his 3 month redundancy wage.

Nurse Tyler sighs as she hears the all-to-familiar voice: ''The person you have called is not available. Please leave a message after the tone.''

''Mr Wilkerson, this is Nurse Tyler from Bolton General Hospital. Your son Malcolm was brought in this morning suffering from acute hypothermia. It is customary that we notify next of kin when a patient arrives at the hospital but we've waited til now because we weren't sure if he'd recover properly. Please could you return my call and I can tell you the details.''

She hangs up the phone, sits back down, dejectedly. To her surprise she sees two bright blue eyes looking up at her.

''Oh, thank God,'' she mumbles, then calls, ''Nurse Glasson! He's awake!''

The boy lying on the bed looks confused, scared even. She smiles warmly.

''Oh, I'm so glad you're awake. It's okay, everything's going to be fine.''

''Where.....'' he manages to croak.

''You're in the hospital. You stayed out at night in the cold and rain, you've got hypothermia. But don't worry, you're safe now.''

He stares back at her.

''My name's Nurse Tyler. You can call me Lizzie.''

He manages to whisper, ''Malcolm.''

She grins. ''I know. Your name was on your ID card in your shirt pocket. We called your boss and he gave us your dad's cell phone number.''

He smiled, just a little, but enough for her to know he was grateful.

Nurse Glasson, the ward nurse, bustled over. ''Nurse Tyler, you're wanted in paediatrics,'' she said sternly, then looked at Malcolm, ''Now, young man, I need to take your temperature. Open up....''

Lizzie Tyler shoots a sympathetic grin at Malcolm, then hurries off to the kids' ward. He's going to be fine, and she's never been more glad.

.

.

.

9 am and Hal has finally rolled out of bed, though he's not sure why since he's no job to go to. Instead he and Lois go out to buy some paint and sheets and other stuff for the new baby - Francis has finally agreed to clear out his old room in her honor. They've left him sorting through his abandoned belongings, while Piama is left in charge of her new sister-in-law.*

Dewey drops Jamie off at kindergarten, but he's not planning on going to school himself. He's found Hal's cell phone with 7 answerphone messages - something's obviously very wrong. He dials the messaging service and is greeted by a young woman's voice, ''Mr Wilkerson, this is Nurse Tyler from Bolton General Hospital...''

That's all he needs to hear.

The bus driver is somewhat sceptical about a thirteen-year-old boy travelling alone, but Dewey tells him he's meeting his mom in Bolton and he seems to buy it.

It's an hour-and-a-half journey to Bolton. The bus is practically empty. Dewey's leaning against the window, watching the scenery rushing past, but he doesn't see any of it. He's too busy thinking of all the horrible things that could have happened to his brother. Literally, his mind is in a whirl, so many ideas he can't even focus on any of them properly. He doesn't even really know why he's doing this, shouldn't he have told his dad? Why didn't he? Well, he knows why...in his heart of hearts, though he loves his dad, Dewey doesn't really trust him.

Which is why he's taking matters into his own hands. Yet again.

* * *

*Thanks to Angelfirenze for correcting my error!! :)


	6. Chapter 6: Coral Pink

**AN: whew, it's been a while since I wrote any of this story! In fact I wrote about a third of this chapter, abandoned it, and found it again this morning and carried on with it...so it might seem a little disjointed, but bear with me!**

**I realised that in the last chapter there was hardly anything about the baby - who is supposed to be the main focus in the story after all - but I promise you I am getting there! **

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter :S DISC.: I don't own anything related to MITM. Not even the season 1 DVD. Life's a bitch.**

Malcolm is sitting up in bed. He's still feeling very weak - in fact his head's not so much swimming as _sinking_, and he can now only focus on one simple thought at a time - instead of the usual five or more. There's literally nothing to do and now he can't even amuse himself by thinking, which is a little weird and also quite scary. Usually his mind is like a bee hive, individual thoughts meeting and connecting, whizzing around so fast and never stopping, even when he's asleep. Now it's like someone's put a damp, dark blanket over it and everything's muffled and unfocused. How do normal people live like this?

Nurse Glasson told him to expect the side effects to last a fair few days, though she wasn't exactly sympathetic when she did. Vaguely he wonders if he should ask her to contact his family next time she comes to take his temperature....

Suddenly, without warning, everything starts to go blurry.

That's weird.

He can't see.

There's a pain in his head.

And then....there's nothing.

....

Dewey's arriving at the hospital. At the main desk he asks for Malcolm Wilkerson, but the receptionist tells him that children are not allowed into the wards without an accompanying adult.

He protests, but she cuts him off and directs an old lady to the cardiatric ward. ''Down that corridor, next to paediatrics...''

Dewey ducks behind the tall desk and manages to get past without the receptionist seeing him. Maybe there are good things about being short after all. Quickly he turns a corner, follows a sign which reads ''A & E''. It's as good a place to start as any.

As he carries on down the corridor, he meets a young, pretty nurse holding a large pile of bedsheets. ''Are you okay?'' she asks.

He considers his options. If she's mean enough she could probably get him thrown out for coming in unaccompanied...on the other hand she could probably help him find Malcolm if he plays his cards right. He puts on his best ''feel sorry for me'' face - which still works just as well as it did when he was five.

''Not really,'' he says, ''I'm looking for my brother.''

She smiles warmly. ''Well, maybe I can help, what's his name?''

''Malcolm Wilkerson.''

Her smile widens, ''Oh, you're Malcolm's brother! Come with me, I'm sure he'll be happy to see you.''

.

.

.

On the contrary, Malcolm isn't happy because he doesn't know Dewey's there.

As soon as they enter the ward, Lizzie can tell something is wrong...the way Malcolm is slumped against the pillows, his head lolling to one side, the way his face is turning back to a scary shade of white.

Immediately she rushes over to his bedside, shakes his shoulder tentatively, calls his name, but there is no response.

''He's unconscious,'' she tells Dewey as calmly as possible, ''Dr. Kelvitch said this might happen...''

There are no other nurses in the ward, which is unusual but Lizzie doesn't have time to think of that. ''Stay there,'' she tells Dewey, ''I'm going to get the doctor.''

Dewey sits down on the chair near the bed. Malcolm's eyes are tight shut, but Dewey can tell he's not just sleeping. He briefly considers holding his brother's hand - that's what they always do in TV shows - but dismisses it as creepy.

Why did he come alone? Why didn't he tell his dad? Maybe he shouldn't have just trusted his own instincts.

He's interrupted from his thoughts as Lizzie comes rushing back in with a tall man behind her - Doctor Kelvitch.

''I just came back to find him like this, Doctor, he's unconscious...''

''I can see that, Nurse,'' the Doctor said, and Dewey noticed he had a hint of a Canadian accent. ''His body's reacted to the temperature change, recalibrating if you like. Try to make him comfortable, this is a surface coma - nothing to be overly concerned about. Hopefully he'll regain consciousness if his body is given time to adjust to the warmth.''

''Hopefully?'' Dewey repeated quietly, his mind completely focused on that one word.

Doctor Kelvitch seemed to notice Dewey for the first time. ''Are you his brother?'' he asked. Dewey nodded. ''Stay with him,'' he continued, ''It'll be good for him to see someone he knows when he wakes up. Do your parents know you're here?''

Dewey shook his head, ''No. And our phone's cut off and I have my dad's cell phone, you won't be able to contact them...'' For the first time he felt a lump in his throat as he realised what he'd done. He blinked rapidly, refusing to let the tears come.

Lizzie, who'd been gently moving Malcolm into a more comfortable position on the bed, looked down at him and gave him a reassuring smile. ''Don't worry. We'll do our best to get hold of them. Do either of them work?''

''My mom works at Walmart,'' Dewey said, to his relief the lump was gone and he was able to breathe more easily. ''But she's just had a baby. She's been off work for the last month.''

''We'll try it anyway,'' said Doctor Kelvitch, patting Dewey on the shoulder, ''You never know, they might be able to find her. I'll get someone to call them right away.'' He turned as if to leave, then looked back, ''Look after him, Nurse,'' he added.

Lizzie wasn't sure whether he'd meant Malcolm, or Dewey, but it didn't matter - she'd keep an eye on them both.

.

.

.

Lois and Hal were in the paint aisle at Walmart, deciding which shade of pink to have for their daughter's bedroom.

Daughter. The word still gave Lois a bit of a thrill. Even though she knew their lives were about to be turned upside down again, she wouldn't have changed it for the world.

''What about this one, Lois?'' said Hal, holding up a very pretty pale pink colour. ''Coral pink.''

''Coral,'' Lois said slowly. ''I like it.''

''Coral,'' Hal repeated. ''Me too.''

''I think we just found a name,'' said Lois happily.

''I think we did.'' Hal agreed.

Lois took the paint can and gave Hal a kiss on the cheek. They smiled at each other. Held the moment.

Then a familiar voice rang out over the tannoy - Craig. ''Lois, I know you're not at work, but I also know you're in aisle six. There's a camera right above you.''

Hal and Lois broke their embrace, and both of them looked up. Sure enough, a little security camera was sitting directly above their heads.

''There's been a call for you. Bolton Hospital. Malcolm's in there. They want you to get over there as soon as possible.''

Without a moment's thought, Hal and Lois have abandoned their shopping cart and are running out of the store. They dodge around other people, down aisles, turn the corner and within seconds they're sprinting out of the door, Lois still holding the coral pink paint can. The alarm goes off as they dash out of the door but they don't wait up. They've reached the car within a minute.

Hal starts up the engine and Lois breathes deeply. Since the baby - Coral! - was born she's supposedly been taking it easy - that sudden spate of running has left her exhausted. But she knows there's no time to lose. They don't know what's happened to Malcolm but Craig's short message was enough. As the car pulls out of the parking lot, she wonders when it was that her life got quite so hectic.


	7. Chapter 7: Old Friend

**AN: First of all, I need to apologise **_**again **_**for the ridiculously late update. I'm a bad, bad person. But in my defence, I've been mega busy with school, so blame my teachers for this chapter taking so long.**

**Second, I want to dedicate this chapter to Alyssa - aka CantlivewithoutHarryPotter - who has been sooooo supportive and encouraging while I've been writing this, and who even gave me some awesome ideas for the story which I'm shamelessly stealing from her. So, thanks. This is for you!**

____________

"Mr and Mrs Wilkerson? Come right through, he's in here."

Lizzie lead Malcolm's parents through to the ward, noticing how worried they both looked.

"Oh, my god," Lois said, when she saw her son. She rushed to his bed. "Is he okay?"

"He'll be absolutely fine, Mrs Wilkerson," the young nurse assured her. "Doctor Kelvitch said he's sure to surface from the coma soon enough, if we let him rest. Right Dewey?"

Dewey, sitting on the other side of the bed, nodded his head. He'd heard the doctor say those exact words. That didn't mean he had to believe them.

"In fact, here he comes now," said Lizzie, as Doctor Kelvitch entered the ward.

"Hello there," he said, holding out his hand for Hal to shake. "Are you Malcolm's parents?"

He was tall, about 40, a strong face and dark hair, a slight Canadian accent in his voice. The sort of man you could put confidence in.

"Yes," said Lois. "We're so sorry we couldn't get here earlier. Our phone's been cut off and things are a bit hectic..."

She trailed off when she realised that her husband and the doctor were staring at each other.

"I've seen you before." said Hal, slowly.

After a pause, Doctor Kelvitch said, "Roller-skating World Championships. 1983."

"Oh, god, yes!" Hal exclaimed. "You got the bronze!"

"And you the silver," said Doctor Kelvitch. "Small world."

"Wow, this is... this is..." Hal faltered.

"So, you still skate?" asked the doctor.

"Nah," Hal said, shaking his head, "got married. Six kids. No time."

"Six?" Doctor Kelvitch whistled. "I've only got one, myself. She's seventeen."

"Same as Malcolm."

"Really? Neat. Maybe they should meet up, it'd be nice for Jess to meet some people her own age. We moved here from Canada two months ago, she hasn't made any friends yet. Hey, you know what? When Malcolm's recovered, you should bring him over, and the two of us can get our skates on, what do you say?"

"I say...sounds great!"

"Um, Doctor Kelvitch?" Lizzie felt she had to butt in. "Sorry to interrupt the grand reunion, but... the patient's awake."

____________

The baby was sleeping contentedly in Piama's arms. She was so tiny, so fragile, it was hard to believe she was her sister-in-law and not her niece. Or her daughter.

Francis was playing with Jamie, making toy aeroplanes fly through the air and robots attack each other. The three-year-old was giggling hysterically at his elder brother's antics.

It was later, when Francis had finished fixing a snack for Jamie, that he came and flopped down on the couch next to his wife.

''Phew,'' he said, ''little kids...they tire you out.''

''You're good with them though,'' said Piama softly, looking down at the sleeping baby.

''You think?'' Francis asked. ''When Reese and Malcolm were little, I used to...''

''Francis,'' Piama cut in, ''there's something I have to tell you.''

* * *

The world around Malcolm swam slowly into focus. A white room. People, standing over him. His mom. His dad. Dewey. There were others, but he didn't recognise either of them.

''Malcolm?''

It was his mom's voice. But she sounded..so far away...

A door opened, on the other side of the room, a blur of motion entered his vision. Another voice. ''I came as fast as I could. He's not dead, is he?''

Were they talking about him?

He wasn't dead, was he?

''No, Reese...of course not.''

Phew.

''So why did I have to come?''


	8. Chapter 8: New Friend

**AN: I'm not really sure about this chapter, it's subject to change. It's quickly becoming a series of sub-plots instead of an overall story, and I'm not sure whether I like that. ****Some parts got a bit…lame…too, so I had to go back and change some of it. **

**But all that aside, we finally reached 20 reviews! This makes me happy. I never got so many on one story before. Thanks you guys! It means a lot. Continue making me happy by reviewing! ****:) **

* * *

Chapter 8: New Friends

After Reese arrived, Doctor Kelvitch continued talking to Hal and Lois, discussing whether it was best to keep Malcolm under observation for a couple more days. Dewey started off listening, but quickly lost track of the conversation.

He wandered out into the corridor. He needed to think.

He'd become a big brother for the second time only yesterday; it hadn't really hit home. And now with Malcolm in hospital… things just kept getting more and more complicated. At least now he could be alone just for a minute, to clear his head.

"Hello."

Or not.

He turned to see a girl, in a wheelchair, wheeling herself closer to him, a bright smile on her face. "I'm Alyssa. What's your name?"

Despite himself, he found he was smiling back. "Dewey."

He looked at the girl more closely. She seemed to be about his age, but appeared a lot smaller and skinnier. Her brown hair was cropped into a short bob and a pair of black-rimmed glasses was pushed back to hold back her bangs.

"So why you here?" she asked.

He sat down on one of the plastic chairs against the wall, so he was more on her level. "Visiting my brother. He has hypothermia."

She nodded. "Okay."

He paused, wondered if he should… "Why are you here?"

"I have leukaemia," she said, casually. "It's mostly gone after the chemotherapy I had last year, but I still have to come in most days for checkups and stuff."

Dewey wasn't sure what to say. In the end he settled for, "Oh."

She gave him a conspiratorial grin. "I don't even need this," she said, gesturing at her wheelchair. "I can walk. But it's cool to freewheel down the corridor. You want to have a go?"

He shook his head. "That's okay."

Alyssa frowned. "You sure? It's fun. And you won't get into trouble. I have most of the nurses here eating out of my hand."

Finally Dewey gave in. "All right."

He sat in the chair and Alyssa turned it round so the whole of the corridor was in front of him. Then she ran pushing it a little while, and gave it a final huge shove which sent him flying off, freewheeling.

He stopped only a couple of feet short of the wall, laughing so hard he could hardly breathe. Using his arms to turn the wheels, he managed to turn back around and wheel himself back to his new friend.

"That was so – much – fun!" he panted. He stopped when she realised she'd sat down on one of the chairs, looking a little flushed and faint. "Are you okay?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yeah, fine," she said. "Just a little tired. The medication I'm on makes me a little drowsy and I can't do too much physical stuff."

Dewey got out of the wheelchair and pushed in front of her, so she could get in easily. "Thanks," she said. She looked up at him, the mischievous grin back on her face. "Hey, you wanna see something else? In the cafeteria, there's a vending machine that's broken. If you hit it right, the stuff comes out without putting any money in…"

* * *

"You're going to be a dad."

The words hit Francis in the face like a sudden gust of wind from nowhere.

He sat there, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. Piama was oh-so-tempted to give him a sharp slap on the face to snap him out of it, but she resisted. Instead she stood up, slowly lowered the sleeping baby into the daycot next to the sofa, and sat back down again next to him.

Finally Francis recovered enough to say something. "But – what?"

Piama rolled her eyes. Took both of his hands in hers and squeezed them, forcing him to concentrate.

"I am pregnant," she enunciated slowly and distinctly. "Do you understand?"

He gulped. Shook his head quickly. "Are you _sure_?"

She nodded. "Pretty sure."

"But we were so careful!" He pulled away from her, stood up, running his hands through his hair.

"I know. But… come on, Francis. It might not be so bad." Piama rose from the couch too, took two steps towards her husband and slipped an arm through his. "Don't be upset."

He looked down at her, a hint of a smile beginning to play on his lips. "I'm not upset. Just shocked is all. Piama…d'you think…"

He trailed off, and Piama pouted. "Do I think what?"

"Do you think I'll be a good father?" he said in a rush.

Grinning, she stood on tiptoe to give him a kiss on the cheek. "Sure you will."

* * *

It was decided that Malcolm need only stay one more night under observation in the hospital. The doctor explained to Hal and Lois that although surface comas were not uncommon in hypothermia patients, they needed to be sure that there was nothing more serious to be worried about.

It was obviously unpractical for either of his parents to stay overnight with him, what with the new baby and all. So about an hour later, Hal and Lois drove back home, leaving Reese to take Dewey in his car when they were ready.

Which left Reese the task of _finding _Dewey.

He was no longer in the ward and as far as Reese could tell he wasn't in the ward next door, or the corridor outside. There was always the men's room but Reese was fairly sure if Dewey had been there, he'd be out by now.

He checked the cafeteria and the reception, along with several more wards. Still no sign of his annoying younger brother.

He found himself back in the corridor again, where he bumped straight in to the young nurse who'd been in Malcolm's ward when he arrived.

"Oh, gosh, sorry," she gasped, "Did I hurt you?"

"Uh, no," he said, wondering vaguely why his throat had suddenly become so dry and why he felt a strange hot sensation creeping into his cheeks. "Um…have you seen…my brother? Not Malcolm, you know, the other one. Dewey. The small one. I have to take him home, he just kind of… disappeared."

Cursing himself for rambling aimlessly, he bit his tongue firmly to stop himself saying anything more.

The nurse – Lizzie? – frowned. "No, sorry, I haven't seen him. But if I do, I'll tell him you're looking."

"Thanks," Reese mumbled, and quickly walked past her.

He swore if he ever found Dewey he'd kill him.

* * *

It had been Alyssa's idea to perform a puppet show for all the kids in the Children's Ward. "They get bored in there," she told Dewey, "Trust me, hospital _sucks _if you don't know how to make it fun."

And so five minutes later they found themselves performing to an audience of twenty patients, seven nurses and four doctors. It was _Dewey_'s idea to make it a musical, so he added some improvised song numbers while all the kids sang along to the choruses, and the little puppet characters danced. The feeling Dewey had gotten when he stepped off the stage at his big music concert was _nothing _compared to the cheers and clapping and laughter when they finished this. The kids were enjoying it so much, and however lame or corny it sounded, it made Dewey happier than he'd been in a long time.

And Reese, standing in the doorway watching his brother, decided he didn't have the heart to kill him after all.

At least, not today.

* * *

**Thanks for reading :D **

**Reviews are love! **


	9. Chapter 9: Promise

**AN: Oh, holey crap on a cracker, it's been ridiculously long since I updated :( But, reading my reviews page lifted my spirits (lol, that sounds so lame) so I've been able to write this! This chapter feels a little...boring, to me, but better an update now than none for another three months, right? Anyway, enjoy! :D**

*** * * ***

''Malcolm? Are you awake? Good news, Doctor Kelvitch says if you feel up to it, you can go home today.''

Morning, and Malcolm is greeted by a comfortingly sharper and brighter world than the one he'd closed his eyes to the night before. His head is clearer, too, and when he sits up in bed he doesn't feel at all dizzy, which must be a good thing. Nurse Tyler is setting a glass of water down on the table beside his bed.

''Great!'' he says, surprised by his own enthusiasm, ''Wow. I've never been that pleased to be going home before.''

She laughs. ''Well, you sound a lot better. I'll get someone to contact your family so they can come and pick you up.''

She leaves his bedside, and Malcolm takes a sip of the cold water, suddenly excited to be going home to meet the newest addition to his family....

.

.

.

Said newest addition to his family is currently sitting in her cot, sucking on a pacifier contentedly as her mother and sister-in-law paint what will soon be her new bedroom.

Piama notices Lois repeatedly stealing glances at the newborn baby girl and smiles - knowing that she, too, will soon be doing much the same thing.

''It's funny, you know,'' Lois says, dipping her paint roller in the can of coral pink, ''All these boys of mine....I'd given up hope of a daughter, you know what they say about families who only ever have one or the other, they hardly ever break the pattern, but Coral....she's like a miracle.''

''Kamana,'' Piama says softly, almost without realising it.

''I'm sorry?''

''Oh, just...._kamana _is an Inuit word for miracle,'' Piama replies, ''One of my favourite words, when I was a child and my grandmother would teach me our tribal language.''

''It's pretty,'' Lois agrees. The two women are silent for a moment, and Lois realises she has become quite close to her daughter-in-law, though their relationship has been....tempestuous, at best of times, in the past. Still, she thinks she prefers it this way.

''I think,'' Piama whispers under her breath, too quiet for Lois to hear, ''I have found a name.''

.

.

.

With his dad at work, begging for his job back, Reese has somehow been roped into picking up his brother from the hospital. And -though he doesn't know how- he finds that Dewey has managed to stowaway on the back seat, too.

''Why d'you want to go back to that place, anyways?'' Reese asks, feigning nonchalance, but he's actually curious.

''No reason,'' Dewey says quickly. ''Just....keeping you company!''

Reese raises his eyebrows. ''Yeah, like I'd want your company.''

Dewey grins, he'd been expecting that. ''Yeah, yeah, just drive, Reese, it'll overload that lonely brain cell of yours if you try to talk as well.''

If he wasn't holding a steering wheel, Reese would've hit him.

When they arrive at the hospital, Reese is all for waiting for Malcolm in the car, but Dewey insists on going in, and Reese follows reluctantly. He heads over to the ward where Malcolm was last time he visited, not noticing that Dewey's nowhere to be seen.

Dewey, of course, has gone the other way, to the paediatric ward.

''Dewey!''

Alyssa is sitting up in bed, the magazine she'd evidently just been reading dropping to the floor. ''Hi!''

''Hi,'' he says, reaching her, ''Are you okay? Why are you in bed?''

She shrugs. ''Oh, just some tests, again. They explained it to me but I wasn't listening. Why're you back here, is your brother okay?''

Dewey nods. ''Uh-huh, he's coming out today. I only came to pick him up.''

She looks disappointed. ''Oh. So I guess I won't see you again.''

He considers. ''Well,'' he says, ''I guess I could 'accidently' break my leg so I could come back to see you.''

She laughs. ''Yeah, you do that.''

He grins back at her. ''Or I could take the bus and visit.''

''Well, that'd probably be less painful.'' she says, still laughing.

''Yeah,'' Dewey agrees. ''Y'know, I'd stay and talk, but my brother's gonna get annoyed. D'you think you'll be in for more tests tomorrow?''

''Probably,'' she sighs. ''I had a few months where I hardly came in at all, but now I seem to be here most days.''

''Well, I'll see you tomorrow then,'' he says, after a moment's awkward silence. ''Bye.''

''See you, Dewey.''

.

.

.

''She's just so....small.''

Lois smiles at her third son, holding his newborn baby sister in his arms as if she might break.

''I guess that's why they call you a genius,'' Dewey pipes up.

Malcolm glares at Dewey, who just grins back.

Lois gets up and enters the kitchen, leaving all five of the boys gathered around Malcolm and the baby.

''Weird,'' says Reese, ''Never been a brother to a _sister _before...''

''None of us have, dummy,'' Francis reminds him, though his tone is friendly. ''It's a new thing...for all of us.''

''D'you think we're gonna mess it up?'' Malcolm asks no-one in particular.

Francis shrugs. ''Well, we've got a fresh start. Who's to say we can't be the best big brothers any kid's ever had?''

They sit there in silence for a moment, each of them contemplating this, how it's is going to change their lives.

''Boy,'' says Dewey, ''I wish you'd had this conversation when I was born.''

He's joking, yes - but there's some truth in that statement, and none of them can deny it.

More silence.

''I feel sorry for her in a way,'' Francis says eventually.

''Why?'' Reese asks.

''Any boy who wants to date Coral,'' he continues, ''Is gonna have to come through _all of us_, first.''


End file.
